Tis A Pity Of A Ditty
I came to write a sonnet
But forgot to don my bonnet;
Hopelessly chilled, my mind now fades.
As the garbage truck is passing by,
My thoughts go with it;
I let them fly!
No longer can I fathom truth;
If only I hadn't drunk
That last vermouth!
No reason have I, now to fear,
I understand how well you hear.
Having now heard this whole story,
Do you honestly think, it should merit glory?
That garbage truck that flew on past
Was driven by this verse. Alas,
Should forgetfulness be your thing,
Absent-mindedness might be your king.
If gibberish be some thoughts foregone,
Then forgetfulness must be those forlorn.
Remember reader: if this makes sense,
To surround your brain with a stockade fence! ! !